


Bright is the Moon

by morganoconner



Series: A Jersey Werewolf in Hawaii [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 08:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2540561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganoconner/pseuds/morganoconner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny doesn't make it into the bar, because someone is waiting for him outside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright is the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a Halloween story. But it seemed fitting to post it now anyway.
> 
> Thanks to ratherastory for her beta work! Especially while right in the midst of dealing with her own crazy RL stuff. ♥
> 
> Happy Halloween, everyone!

"Detective Williams?"

Danny stops three feet from the door to the bar and sighs. It's been a long day, a really, truly, _horrifically_ long day, and he has a godawful headache and his ears have been doing this weird ringing thing for the past hour. All he wants is a very large beer and then to go home and sleep for a week.

Instead, he turns with the politest smile he can manage under the circumstances, which he knows comes out looking more like a grimace, and asks, "Can I help you?"

The guy who called out to him steps away from the wall and onto the sidewalk, into the light. He's got his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, and he's wearing a plaid shirt in bright Hawaiian colors over one of those ironic t-shirts teenagers love so much.

Danny's eyes immediately narrow, because he definitely knows this guy. "You're one of the kids who were at the crime scene today." Suspicion creeps up his spine. "What are you doing here, you following me?" He tries to turn it into a joke, trying for a half-smile and hoping to lull the kid into a sense of security, but he probably fails miserably. He's not exactly at his best today, okay, but that's not his fault. Under his shirt, he can feel the burn of the bite wound Five-0's latest perp managed to inflict on him just a few hours ago.

Danny's blaming the surprise of being _bitten_ on why he let the asshole escape, but that hasn't been helping him feel much better about it.

The kid standing in front of him holds a hand out. "I'm Stiles," he says. His palm is warm and a little bit sweaty and his eyes dart around…not in a nervous way, but like he's assessing things. "Stiles Stilinski. Listen, is there somewhere we can talk privately? It's kind of important."

Danny notices that the kid – and he's definitely a kid, can't be more than eighteen at the most – doesn't actually answer his question. "Sure it can't wait?" he asks, but even if the kid – _Stiles_ , and what the hell kind of a name is that, anyway? – were to acquiesce, Danny knows he's stuck now. He sighs again. "Okay, kid, come on, we're only a few blocks from my office, we can talk there."

Stiles nods a little too eagerly, head bobbing as he thrusts his hands into his pockets and bounces on his feet. "Great! Let's go. Walking or driving?"

Danny snorts and leads him out to the street, where the Camaro is parked. He hears Stiles mutter something under his breath, and he has three responses on his tongue ready to go about how no snot-nosed kid gets to say shit about his car, but he bites it back in favor of getting this over and done with as quickly as possible and with minimum fuss, and lets Stiles climb into the back seat.

The drive is quiet, in spite of a couple fumbled attempts at conversation from Stiles that Danny ignores. And yeah, it's probably a little strange, having a drive involving this much silence, because even when he has hardened criminals in the backseat of his car, Danny is never quiet. He has, in fact, had some of those hardened criminals practically begging for mercy by the end of a car ride, ready and willing to spill their guts to Steve if it means they no longer have to listen to Danny rant at them. But it's been a weird day (okay, a weird week), and his energy levels plummeted forever ago. And damn it, he was supposed to be home by now, him and Kono and Grover taking their very short sleep shifts while Steve and Chin keep working on this never-ending case. The case where people keep turning up mauled to death with no rhyme or reason.

_Damn it._

He manages to refrain from punching the steering wheel in his bout of fresh frustration, but Stiles must be more observant than most teenagers, because he pipes up from the backseat with, "Everything okay, detective?"

"Shut up," Danny snaps, and slides into the parking spot he just left fifteen minutes ago. He pulls out his phone as he exits the car and texts Chin, _Coming back in to talk to a witness. Get me anything you can on Stilinski, first name maybe Stiles, currently visiting Hawaii._ Because this kid is definitely not a native.

Stiles follows him willingly enough into the building, glancing around at the offices and the few people they pass. Danny knocks on Steve's door on his way by and waves when his partner glances up with a puzzled frown. He enters his own office and indicates Stiles should sit down.

"So," he says after Stiles sits there for a while without saying a word. "We just gonna sit here and stare each other to death, or are you gonna open your mouth and tell me what this is all about? We can start with how you knew where I was going and end with why I'm not at home crawling into my nice warm bed right now, because let me tell you, I was really looking forward to that bed, okay? You have no idea how much I wanted to see my bed tonight."

"Um." Stiles fidgets a little. Of course, _now_ looks nervous. "Well, one of my friends actually overheard you talking to your partner about stopping by the bar, something about how you wouldn't be able to sleep without at least one drink because you were too wound up from this case."

Danny stares him down. "Uh huh."

"It's just, we saw you get bit earlier," Stiles continues, hands clenching and unclenching in his lap. Any second now, Stiles will lose focus and those hands will start waving every which way. Danny knows the signs. "And this is going to sound crazy, _believe_ me I know how crazy this is going to sound, but I had to talk to you because that bite wasn't just a normal bite and you need to know why and –"

Danny holds up a hand, and Stiles falters. "Okay kid, look, I appreciate the concern for my well-being, but I've already started the regime of rabies shots or whatever the quacks at the clinic think I need, but it's not your –"

"No, _listen_ ," Stiles interrupts insistently, and yup, there go the hands. "This is really important, you're going to change and it's not _rabies_ , I wouldn't care if that was it –"

"Gee, thanks," Danny says dryly.

" _But_ this is even worse… No! No, forget I said that, it's totally not bad, it's actually…a gift. Sort of. Anyway, you're a detective on the governor of Hawaii's super special task force, which makes this complicated, and you clearly have a temper, which makes it worse but not impossible. So this is a little more perilous than it might have been otherwise, and you have to listen to me because the full moon is in three days and you're not going to be ready!"

Danny blinks. Stiles blinks back.

"Full moon?" Danny asks, already very sure that he doesn't want to know.

Stiles takes a deep breath. "Yeah. See, my friends and I are here because another friend of ours who lives here called when the murders started. It's really not hard to recognize the signs of a feral Alpha. Scott and Derek were sure they could take him down, and up until now, he's just been killing, he hasn't bitten anyone that we could find, but then today…" Stiles trails off, which is probably bad for him because it gives Danny precious seconds to process everything he just heard.

Which, admittedly, doesn't help it make any sort of sense, but it does at least let him get a few words in edgewise.

"Cut to the chase, kid, because so far you've told me a whole lot of nothing and I want to see my bed sometime soon, got it? Chop chop. Tell me why we're here. And also what the hell an Alpha is." Gang related? Drug lord? At this point, if it will help explain something about their perp, Danny will take anything.

"Um. Well." Stiles swallows, then takes another big gulp of air and faces Danny straight on. Danny has to give him props for that, because most kids aren't good at eye contact with police types. Especially grumpy ones. Visibly steeling himself, Stiles says, "Your perp is a werewolf, the kind of werewolf that can make other werewolves, and since he bit you, you're either going to die or turn into a werewolf yourself. So. How are you feeling, Detective Williams?"

"Oh god," Danny says, and he actually _feels_ himself start to snap. "I'm in a room with a crazy person. This is great, really, this is just great." He scrubs his hands over his eyes and through his hair and then throws them over his head as he gives an inarticulate shout of rage that may or may not be directed at the entire world. "Are you _kidding_ me with this? Is this some kind of joke to you? People are _dying_ and you're going to sit there and tell me it's because of _werewolves?_ What do you think I am, _stupid?_ Who do you think _you_ are? You know, it's a crime to waste a law officer's time like this you pain-in-the-ass little punk. I _hope_ you're under eighteen because I'm going to call your parents so fast –"

"Nineteen, actually, and my dad knows I'm here and _why_ I'm here and he's the sheriff of Beacon County – that's in California, by the way – and he will back me up completely. Want his number?" Stiles leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at Danny like he has the right to be a little shit in Danny's own office.

And it's baffling, because even while he's being a sarcastic brat, he also sounds _earnest_ , like he really believes everything he's saying. Danny needs to find out what psych ward he escaped from ASAP because this is too much.

And like magic, that's when Chin walks through the door, sparing little more than one curious glance between Danny and his crazy witness. Danny makes instant grabby hands for the papers he's holding, skimming them once and then reading them again in disbelief. "Jesus Christ, you really are a sheriff's kid."

Chin hovers for a moment. "Need a hand, brah?" he asks. His tone is as easygoing as ever, but Danny detects the worry underneath.

"No," Danny says decisively, already reaching for his phone. "I got this." And so saying, with Stiles still sitting in his seat increasingly fidgety, Danny dials Beacon Hills, California.

Twenty minutes later, he's hanging up with a black hole where his stomach used to be and his head spinning because _no_. Things like this do not actually happen and are not actually real and maybe he actually _is_ asleep, yeah? Maybe he made it to his bed and this is all a very weird dream.

Stiles has, miraculously, stayed quiet up to this point (except for a shouted hello to his father, Sheriff John Stilinski), but that doesn't last long.

"So, it's been about eight hours since you were bitten, you should definitely be feeling something by now if it was going to kill you," he says, like Danny isn't in the middle of trying to shift his entire worldview. "Are you dizzy or in pain or ready to vomit a really disgusting black gooey substance right now? He peers across at Danny like he's trying to dissect him with his eyes.

"Excuse me a minute," Danny says numbly, and ignoring Stiles' shouts of, "Hey, wait!" he leaves his office and goes straight over to Steve's. His one last hope for any kind of sanity, and yes, he sees the irony in that because really, Steve and sanity do not belong in sentences together.

"Hey," Steve says, immediately standing and rounding his desk, pawing at Danny's shirt until he can reach the bandage underneath, all while asking what's going on and who the kid in Danny's office is. Danny lets this happen with little more than a roll of his eyes because Steve McGarrett is a persistent motherfucker, and Danny doesn't have time for their usual banter right now.

"Steve, you saw some weird stuff in the army, right?" Danny asks, and ignores Steve glaring and muttering about the Navy to continue that non sequitur with, "In all that, did you ever deal with something seriously wacky, like, I dunno, werewolves?"

Steve is good, and he's a stickler for all those rules about _classified material_ , but there's no mistaking the way his eyes widen and then immediately go dark and shuttered with some undoubtedly horrible memory. His hands fall away from Danny's side, and he takes a step back. Danny can practically _see_ the dots connecting in his mind, and they sure won't make a particularly pretty picture.

"Well, shit," Danny sighs, and turns around to slink back to his own office. If Steve tries to call him back, he doesn't hear. He closes his door with more force than necessary 

Stiles blinks at him. "Detective? Um. Everything okay?"

While Danny would like nothing more than to rip this kid a new one and pretend this isn't happening, he also knows that right now, Stiles is all he's got. And he's acting like maybe this is something that could be okay, like even if Danny is a werewolf (and wow, okay, that is not going to get any easier to think anytime soon), he won't necessarily be like the guy they're after… _feral_ , that was the word. That's gotta be a good sign, anyway, right? Because Danny likes who he is, he likes not being a monster, and he's trying very hard not to think of Grace right now, but…he doesn't want to give up his daughter out of fear of hurting her. He'll kill himself before he even lets himself _think_ of hurting her.

So with all that in mind, he tells Stiles, "I'm not vomiting black goo, I'm not in pain, and the bite that almost took a whole chunk out of me this afternoon has somehow almost completely healed."

The sound Stiles makes is definitely one of relief, and the grin he gives Danny is wide and genuine. "That's awesome! Wow, you don't even know, man, I feel so much better right now. Okay. I need to call Derek. Since you're definitely going to live, you're gonna need help, and he's kind of our guru with stuff like this. Hilarious really, because a few years ago that was _so_ not the case."

While Stiles' fingers dart over the phone that has suddenly appeared in his hand, the door to Danny's office opens and Steve comes in. He has that determined look he gets sometimes, and Danny would wave it off, he would, except that when Steve yanks him into a full-body hug and mumbles that they can deal with this and it's not really all that big a deal, Danno, he promises…well, something inside Danny goes completely limp and all he can do is cling harder to keep himself upright.

Stiles, meanwhile, has paused. He addresses Danny quietly. "Your, um, partner. You should consider having him here when you talk to Derek. It helps to have an anchor, someone or something to keep you grounded. Um. To keep you _human_ , when you get all worked up or it's a full moon or…you know, whatever."

The sound Danny makes is a mutant hybrid between hysterical laughter and desperate sobbing. Steve McGarrett keeping anyone _grounded_ is downright absurd.

Then again, Danny thinks, resting his head on Steve's shoulder and breathing in the familiar, calming scent…so are werewolves.

**Author's Note:**

> Title was blatantly stolen from my favorite Metallica song. I regret nothing. (Mostly because this was almost titled _A Jersey Werewolf in Hawaii_ before I decided I just couldn't.)
> 
> So first off, if anything was going to drag me out of the writing funk I've been in for most of this year, it would be Hawaii Five-0/Teen Wolf crossover shenanigans, so thank you to the intoabar mods for giving me a great assignment! I couldn't have asked for better. :D  
> That being said, I also need to point out that this story would have been been a whooooole lot longer if I wasn't doing NaNo this year, and I fully expect to revisit it with a full-length sequel in the not-too-distant future. I don't even know if people besides me actually watch H50 these days or not, but you have been warned. I had way too much fun with this one.
> 
> In the meantime, as always, feel free to come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://morganoconner.tumblr.com/)! :)


End file.
